We Are Who We Are
by captainbates94
Summary: A collection of Bates Motel drabbles. Norman x Norma pairing with appearances by Dylan, Emma, and Romero.
1. Cherry Tree by the National

_Can we show a little discipline?_

She's stiff in his doorway, her oxygen tank still beside her, her doe eyes staring through him. His heart doesn't know if it wants to lodge itself in his throat or drop to his stomach. Mother is behind him, looking over his shoulder. _Calm down _her command shakes down his spine.

Emma smiles at him. "Hey, Norman."

They've both aged rapidly since senior year. Norman knows there are steep bags under his eyes, knows even better that his melancholy is far too visible. Emma's twenty-two now and equally disheveled and heartsick. Norman could almost feel bad for her; he would've felt bad for her once upon a time.

"Hi, Emma. What are you -" Mother presses closer and breathes down his neck. _Don't let her in. Don't you dare let her in. _He exhales. "What are you doing here?"

"I uh, heard about the bypass." She swallows and he can make out the tears in her eyes shining in the fading sunlight. "And about your mom."

She'd left White Pine Bay right after graduation, went to some elite college in New York. He hadn't written her or called her; hadn't even really thought about her. Even when his life took that turn for the worse, Emma stayed far from his thoughts. "Yeah. I'm okay, really." _Good boy. _He can hear the smirk in Mother's voice. It fills him with something unidentifiable.

"Are you?" She can read his face, how terrified he is to have found her standing outside his door. "Are you really all right, Norman?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Honest. I'm just in the middle of something right now. Maybe we can get together later? In town?"

She looks at him and her eyes are hard and soft all at once. A smile lights her features. "Sure. I'd like that."

"Okay. I'll meet you at that diner you love. Does eight sound good?"

Now, she laughs. It's a sound he'd long forgotten. "Yeah, yeah. That sounds great, Norman. I'll see you then."

He stares after her as she walks back to her car. When she starts it and the radio kicks on, he can just barely make out the song blaring from the speakers.

_Don't look at me I'm indiscreet. Don't look at me I'm only breathing. _

He smirks to himself as she drives off and wordlessly allows Mother to pull him back inside.


	2. Dream Lover by Bobby Darin

The song goes on behind them, Bobby Darin's soulful croons. Norman keeps his mother against him, only to laugh when she almost stumbles backward over one of his feet.

"Sorry." He says. Dancing had never been one of his fortes; it'd always been hers.

She laughs, too. "Norman." She admonishes. "Back first, then forward."

He pulls back to look at her. Her eyes shine bright, the happiness inside her almost uncontainable. God, she's beautiful. "You're so much better at this than me." He smirks good naturedly and she nods.

"Of course I am, honey."

"Well, you didn't have to agree with me quite so quickly." He tugs her back into his arms and starts swaying her again. Bobby Darin keeps on going.

_I'll go to sleep and dream again. That's the only thing to do, till all my lover's dreams come true. _

Norma settles a firm grip around his neck and hugs him tight. "I love you so much, Norman. I don't know how to survive without you."

He pushes down every thought about the gun he stole from her along with every thought about what he planned to do with it. He couldn't afford to back out of this. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt her. Or worse: if he killed her. Blacked out and did something horrific and woke up with her blood on his hands.

Norman breathes her in slowly, commits her scent to memory, something to hold onto for the last few hours of his life. "I know, Mother, I know. I'm never going anywhere. I promise."

_I want a dream lover so I don't have to dream alone. _


	3. Change (In the House of Flies)

_I took you home and set you on the glass. I pulled off your wings and I laughed…_

It's hard to keep his hands steady, no matter how many times he's done this before. He waits for the sirens to sound on the street, but they never come. That slimy Deputy Lin won't ever discover what he's done, that he killed that Sheriff for taking what was his. Murder-Suicide. Yeah, right. He'd killed her, too. His own mother, the only woman he could've truly loved. He blamed the Sheriff for all of it. _Alex. _Norman takes his hands from the work in front of him and drops them to his lap. The blood on his fingers seeps into his grey slacks.

He stares straight ahead, right at her, cut open on his taxidermy bench. "Why did you do this to me? Huh?" He slams his fist down and feels the entire table shake. Maybe it's the whole world shaking, right underneath his feet. A laugh trembles through him. It's not humor; it's incredulity. How dare she. How dare _they. _"I loved you." He says and his voice shatters, his throat closes up. "I would've loved you forever. More than any of them ever could."

He looks down into her lifeless eyes. Those beautiful eyes. Alive, they'd sparkled blue, like rippling water, like a clear sky. In death, they're dark and cold, blacker than the night outside. Norman reaches out and closes them because he can't bear to see. A smear of blood runs down to her cheekbone.

"Damn it." He mutters under his breath. "Damn it." He drops his forehead to hers, ignores how cold she is to the touch. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The sobs break him open. It's something like freedom and everything like prison.

_I watched a change in you. It's like you never had wings…_


	4. The Only One by the Black Keys

_Like a ghost the one I love the most disappears when I get near…_

He pads into the kitchen at the break of dawn. The curtains are open and the infant lights of day are barely peaking through. Norman feels the warm rush of home the moment he sees his mother standing in front of the stove. She's cracking eggs with one hand and humming to herself.

It's the familiar harmony of Sinatra's "Blue Moon." Norman smiles. "Morning."

She turns to him and his heart stops. There's a love bite sticking out deep red on her collarbone. "Morning, honey."

His eyes drill into her. He points. "What's that?"

She glances down for half a second only to panic and pull the edge of her robe up over the spot. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing." Someone else. Someone else. Someone else. The words pound relentlessly in his head. He wants to rip the universe apart for dealing him a hand so cruel. "Who left it, Mother?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me." They'd been through this, hadn't they? She wasn't allowed to lie to him. That's not how this relationship was supposed to work. We have to be together. We're supposed to be together. Norman's blood starts to boil. "Tell me."

She looks down, takes those beautiful eyes away from him. "Nobody." She comes back, angrier than a bull. "Don't ask me again."

He wants to grab her, shake her, make the truth fall out. But, he can hardly bear to look at her. With a decisive nod, he turns and walks away.

Norma's gaze trails after him. It's full of sadness and regret. Why did she feel so awful about this? Didn't she deserve happiness, a man who wanted her? What was so wrong with that? She wipes the tears that fall away. What did Norman want from her?

_I can't explain nor can I contain the control you have on my soul…_


	5. Power Of Love by Gabrielle Aplin

_Love is light scaring darkness away…_

He traces her lines in slow motion. The pad of his index finger moves from her temple to her cheek to her jaw. She stirs slightly, her body shifting against his. He sucks in a breath.

"Mother."

She reacts to his voice on impact. Her eyes are the deepest shade of blue he's ever known. He feels like they could run away with his soul. Maybe they already have. It's hard to tell, really.

"Morning, honey." She lifts her head from the pillow and wipes at her wet cheek. A small puddle of drool has accumulated on the pillowcase.

Norman laughs. "Morning." She's still beautiful. Even more so because he's the only man who's allowed to see her this way.

She watches him wearily, scanning his bloodshot eyes and clenching fingers. "You haven't slept."

"No."

"Norman." Disappointment laced with concern: Her specialty.

"I'm okay."

She's saved him. Regardless, she prays to any deity that'll listen. Let him be. "Nightmares?" It's then she notices the beads of sweat that have gathered at his forehead. "Norman."

"I'm okay. I swear." His arms go around her waist. The mattress squeaks as he pulls her into him, chest to chest. His breath is warm in her ear. "You're here. I'm okay."

"What are the nightmares about?"

He swallows. "You."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're bleeding to death and I can't move. I can't save you. I…" His face falls to her collarbone. She's alive. She's breathing, she's holding him, she's whispering his name.

"I'm right here. I'm right here. I'm with you. We're together. We're in love. Everything is fine." She kisses his temple gently. "I love you and I'm here. There's nothing to worry about. I promise."

He hasn't stopped fearing the day he'll snap again. When the voices and the blackouts will come back. The day he'll hurt her because she's the only one here. His body trembles. "I don't…I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't. You won't. Norman, please relax. Please. I'm fine and I'm right here." She pulls him into her until his head is tucked beneath her chin and her arms are tight around him. Her lips brush his temple. "Shhh. Go to sleep. Please, Norman."

He sighs heavily and nuzzles against her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Norman. I always will."

_Feels like fire I'm so in love with you…_


	6. Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge

_Maybe this is danger and you just don't know…_

Norman watches her from across the room. She can feel him, those aqua eyes boring through her. He looks damn good in that white dress shirt with the blue tie that matches the color of his stare. She'd picked it out for him that morning when she'd told him that Christine had invited her to yet another party. Her peripheral vision gives away that George is intent on her, too. He's going on about something, but Norma isn't listening. All she feels is Norman, less than a hundred feet away, focusing all his energy in her direction.

She was hoping they could get over this yearning for each other, let it out in the night and forget about it, but the harder they fought, the harder it was to contain. Norman's want is almost a tangible thing, even in a public place.

Norma swallows hard and looks up at George. "I'm sorry. Could you excuse me?"

George's face reads skepticism, only to soften a moment after. "Sure."

With a grateful nod, she stalks past him toward Norman. He's talking with Christine, but as soon as he notices Norma closing the distance, he pulls back from the conversation.

"Can I talk to you? Privately?" Norma's voice catches.

Christine tilts her head questioningly. Norma doesn't even glance at her.

"Sure." Norman lets himself be dragged outside, toward where they parked the car. A dozen other cars fill up all the space in Christine's driveway and her front yard. Thankfully, there's no one else around. Not out here, at least.

"Mother, what are you doing?"

She yanks open the door to the backseat and slides in. "Come on."

He obeys her without hesitation and quickly learns her motivation when her hand cups his crotch. "Oh." He chuckles, leaning over to kiss her deeply.

The moan that leaves her sends a shiver down his spine. She tugs hard on his belt as Norman's hands ride up underneath her dress.

Their lips separate with a resounding pop. "Mother…" He grunts at her legs snaking their way around his waist and pulling him forward. "This probably isn't a good idea. Anyone could come out here and see us."

Warm hands frame his face to drag his mouth closer to hers. "Then hurry up and fuck me already."

He goes pink in the face even while he pushes her panties to the side with a sure touch and proceeds to grab her roughly at the hips. He surges forward and smiles wide at the whimper that trembles from her mouth.

"Anything for you, Mother." Norman does what she asks, taking her at a hurried, frantic pace. Norma throws an arm across shoulders and meets his every thrust.

She throws her head back and groans out his name. She'd be a goddamn fool to deny herself this. His skin, his kiss, his impassioned noises against her. She loves every single piece of him so entirely. No one would ever want him like she did. No one.

_You pray it all away but it continues to grow…_


	7. Dark Storm by the Jezebels

_Baby how I ponder your shadow…_

The floorboards creak every time he hits them just so. That sound echoes through the halls and through his head, almost a tolling bell, a symbol of doom. He lives for her only because he has to; He lives for her only because he knows no other way to exist. His whole life has been this and the whole rest of it will be, too. She'll make sure of it.

Her footsteps creak behind him. She follows him everywhere, even down to the motel. Even to his bedroom when he wants to turn in for the night. Her shadow casts darkness over him. She's taller now than she's ever been.

"Mother." He licks his lips, apprehensive. "Mother, you should be in bed."

"And you should be watching the office. I guess neither of us can do what we're told." She's quick, lightning bolt in a black sky quick, and he knows he'll never defeat her. Never again.

"There aren't any customers." He challenges. "What do you want me to do? Pick up the motel and drop it on the new highway?"

"Don't get smart with me, Norman. You know I hate it when you get smart with me."

He squeezes his eyes shut until there are spots in his vision. Her voice stops and when he refocuses, her shadow's gone, too. And the footsteps. How he hates the sound of her footsteps. That damn creaking. Those damn floorboards. His hand wraps around the bannister to keep him upright. Every time she leaves it takes him a moment to fall back into himself. Dizziness makes it difficult to move.

"Good night, Mother." He says. She doesn't respond.

_No one told me the end of the line could be only emptiness that would swallow my love…_


	8. White Blank Page by Mumford and Sons

_Tell me now where was my fault in loving you with my whole heart?_

He opens and closes his hand over and over, until his knuckles ache, until his heart calms in his chest. He looks up to find that they're still here, the three of them. His family.

"Go away." He spits. Romero won't set bail, Norman knows, but that doesn't make anything easier. That doesn't make him less antagonistic toward these people in front of him.

"Norman, please." Norma begs him with a shaky voice, her hand clenched around Dylan's and around Norman's sitting in a tight fist on the table top. Emma's beside them, watching him warily, still clearly not believing the situation.

Norman glances at her. "What are you doing here, Emma?"

"I wanted to be here for you." She says matter-of-fact.

Norman shakes his head. "That's nice…you still think I didn't do it?"

"You didn't."

His orange jumpsuit is claustrophobic and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, shaking Norma's grip away in the process. "I did it, Emma, okay? I did it. Now, can the three of you please go away?"

Dylan's eyes drill a hole into Norman's stern gaze. "We're your family, Norman. We're gonna be here for you whether you want us here or not."

He hates that they're seeing him like this, at his absolute lowest. He's scum and none of them should want to have anything to do with him. "Please leave." He says quietly. "I can't bear the three of you seeing me like this."

Norma stands up and circles the table. She's watching him closely, like he's a bomb about to explode. A landmine she can't step too close to. "I love you, honey, and I will get you out of here. I swear. I don't care what I have to do."

He's unsteady on his feet but he goes to her anyway. For a long moment, he does nothing but hold her stare. Then, he bends down and pulls her into him.

"Don't even bother." It's final. It's definite. It's all he wants. He deserves this. "Please, Mother, just leave it alone. I deserve whatever happens. Trust me, I do."

"No, you don't. You don't." She smiles warmly at him. "I'm gonna save you from this, Norman. I promise."

He shuts his eyes tight and laughs. "Don't you understand? You can't."

_Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life…_


	9. You're the One by the Black Keys

_Will you be true till life is done? You're the one I adore…_

She runs her fingertips down the frame slowly, right over Norman's young cherub face. He couldn't've been more than three or four years old in this picture and Norma takes a quiet moment to remember. The boy without worries, perfectly normal and happy, untainted, grabbing onto her hand when they went out into the ocean.

That trip they'd taken to California is a bright spot in her memory, one of the brightest, in fact. That little boy had been everything. The man he's become is the greatest man she'll ever know and something about that fact thrills her. She raised him. That wonderful man with the heart of gold, sensitive and caring, full of love and understanding.

Norma smiles softly as her finger recovers the trail. Footsteps sound behind her and she turns to find Norman in the doorway, holding a bouquet of roses.

He can barely contain his excitement.

"Norman! What are these for?"

"Don't tell me you forgot." His eyes are so soft, his face even softer. Adoration bleeds from him as he tilts his head and laughs at her.

"What? What did I forget?"

He leans forward and kisses her cheek. "Your birthday."

Her whole body tightens. Her birthday. It's a day she hardly celebrated anymore. They hadn't celebrated it once when Sam was alive and now that he was dead…Norma shakes her head. That was a bad road. As a little girl, her birthday had been just another day and after the thirteenth, her birthday had become a dreaded thing because Caleb always used that excuse to keep her in his clutches a little longer.

She rubs desperately at her eyes with one hand, the other increasing its grip on the flowers. Flowers from Norman, the only man who'd ever thought to celebrate her birthday as a thing of joy instead of pain and dread.

Tears fall from her eyes before she can even think to hold them in.

Norman's face twists in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Norman, I'm all right. I've never been better."

He smiles big at her and Norma's whole existence feels warmer for it. "Really? Cause I know you don't like to make a big deal of it, but ever since the whole thing with dad…and you know, the moving, I just thought we should do something. We don't have to do anything next year, but I just…I wanted you to have something. Just once."

The tears won't stop, but that's okay. He's so wonderful. "Thank you, Norman." Her heart feels lighter than it's ever felt, her mind finally free from everything, at least for now. She wants to cherish it. Her palm cups his cheek. "I love you."

He ducks his head for a moment, overwhelmed. When his eyes find hers again, they're sparkling bright blue, like those waves in California. "I love you, too, Mom. More than anything."

_Now I'm old and wise when I see your eyes you're the one I adore…_


	10. Close Your Eyes by Michael Buble

_You're made of strength and mercy…_

"Shhhh." He holds her tight, but her trembling doesn't subside. His breathing is sure and steady, despite the knife she holds in her hand and the blood on her clothes that's seeping into his. His skin crawls even while he whispers to her. "Mother, it's okay. It's okay."

Behind them, Caleb bleeds. His eyes unseeingly pointing toward the ceiling. Norma's sobs are all Norman can feel, despite the blood creeping toward the soles of his shoes. "Mother, I have to call Romero. You have to let me."

Her floral print blouse is ripped down the center where Caleb had grabbed her. One eye is swollen and blackening quickly. Norman knows that if Norma hadn't stabbed the bastard, he would've. Caleb had never deserved to live. He was the evil in their world and he'd been vanquished. Still, Norman needs the cavalry.

He pulls back from her. She's still in shambles, her sobs not subsiding, her fingers clenched too tight around the butcher knife. He takes her hand and unfolds her grip. The bloodied weapon clatters to the floor, right beside her brother's cooling body.

He remembers Keith. The lake, the boat, the cover up. Tonight would not happen that way. He moves toward the house phone and feels Norma come up behind him. Her arms wrap around his waist. She rests her forehead against his back, her tears falling harder. He turns halfway toward her and puts one arm across her shoulders. "It's okay." He mutters quietly. "It's okay, Mother, I promise."

The phone rings for a long minute before there's an answer on the other side of the line. "Sheriff Romero."

"Sheriff, it's Norman Bates. Something's happened."

_My soul is yours to save…_


	11. Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men

_I don't like walking around this old and empty house…_

The silence is heavy and suffocating. He can't feel anything aside from her wrath, the emotion he knows is meant to be conveyed by the quiet. So, he eats by himself, a turkey sandwich with mustard and a tall glass of milk.

Her sandwich sits lonely on the other end of the table and Norman watches a fly come in from the open window and land on it. For a minute, the low buzzing is the only sound. Norman lets it gather around him. Anything's better than her silence.

Later, he tries to read, but the words blur together on the page, resembling some ancient indecipherable language. He shuts it hard, hoping she'll hear it and start scolding him. The house doesn't move.

Norman sighs. "Mother." Nothing. "Mother, please."

There's a blurred space in his memory that won't clear no matter how hard he tries. He can't remember the last time he was with her; he can't remember the last time he even saw her from across a room.

A door slams upstairs. Norman jumps. "Mother?"

Heavy, resounding footfalls. Not Mother. Dylan. He looks sad, just like usual. "No, Norman. Just me…You all right?"

He meets his brother's melancholic expression. His eyes are sloped and he seems disillusioned. Norman can't think of why he'd be feeling that way. "I'm fine." He says. "I'm just waiting for Mother to stop ignoring me and get out of bed."

Dylan glances over his shoulder in the direction of Norma's old bedroom. He couldn't break his little brother's delusion; it would kill him and Dylan…Dylan couldn't lose them both. He refused. A heavy sigh rushes through him as he turns back to Norman. "I'm sure she'll come around in a little while. You know how she is. I have to go to work. Will you be okay?"

Norman smiles. "I'll be fine as soon as Mother comes down. Bye, Dylan."

"Bye."

_Tell her that I miss our little talks…_


End file.
